Wrath, page 10
This group at least seemed well rested and carried themselves with a bit more competence than the others. Tira felt a surge of hope when she saw a sour faced man with a copper circle on the back of his hand waving at them to gather around him. She’d get their names, classes, and ranks once they came into the dungeon proper, thanks to the see nameplate feature, but for now she just watched. “All right,” he said. “So first thing to know? That light right there. That means the dungeon has people in it. We don’t go in until they come out or it turns blue.”
“What’s it mean if it turns blue and a group doesn’t come out?” asked a red-headed woman. She was carrying a mage’s staff but wasn’t wearing a mage’s tunic, instead opting for loose fitting tunic and breeches.
“It means they finished their run, Sara,” the sour faced man said.
“Then...why wouldn’t they come out?” Sara asked, her forehead furrowing. Everyone looked at her, and Sara smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Wait, hang on, I just got it. Sorry. I really should have brought some coffee with me.”
“It’s a good thing you’re our mage,” the other woman with the group said, resting her hands on daggers at her side. “If Fosor or Lavoz was that fuzzy, we’d be in trouble.”
The sour faced man - Fosor - walked over to Sara. “Moa’s right. Can you do this?”
“I’m fine,” Sara said, brushing her hands through her hair. “Just a bit brain muddled. Lack of caffeine and sleeping on the ground.”
Fosor reached out in a quick motion, pressing the palm of his hand against Sara’s forehead. She stiffened in surprise as golden mana flowed through his palm and into her mind. For a moment she looked confused and furious, and then her expression softened. “I...wow. I feel like I got a full night’s sleep.”
“Because that’s what that spell does,” Fosor said. “Anyone else? Do keep in mind if I do that too often, it will shatter your mind and leave you a gibbering heap. So be very certain you need it.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “I didn’t -”
“Yes,” Fosor said. “You did.”
“You should listen to him,” said another voice, one Tira found familiar. When the speaker entered Tira’s influence, Tira saw she was right. Tank Girl had returned. She had ditched the shield for a pair of axes. “This place...it’s deadly.”
“You didn’t have a class when you were here last time,” Sara said gently.
“Yeah. But some of my party had classes. They died.” Tank Girl shook her head. “I’d prefer not to repeat that.”
Pierre spoke up in the core room. “Tira,” he said, drawing her attention from the group outside. “The group inside is about to enter the raptor room. Did you want to watch?”
“Yeah, I will. Want to make sure I’m ready to let the next group in as soon as I can.” Tira sent him a smile. “This group looks promising...I think we’ll finally get to see Thago in action.”
***
Sara felt like she was being watched. It was a stupid, irrational feeling, but she couldn’t shake it.
“You feel it, too?” Korah asked. The Urkin had seemed increasingly on edge as they approached, and Sara was beginning to worry that they’d made a mistake bringing her. “It’s the spirit of the dungeon watching us.”
Lavoz, their knight, shook his head. “That’s superstition. Dungeons have spirits in the same way volcanoes or hurricanes do.”
“Yes,” Korah said. “Glad you understand.”
“I don’t think he was agreeing with you,” Sara said.
“Storms have spirits. Volcanoes have spirits. And trust me - this dungeon has a spirit, and it knows nothing but hate.” Korah’s lips were pressed into a line. From what she had said, she planned to become a Knight when she’d first gone in. If she’d known, she would have taken a perverse pride in Tira calling her “Tank Girl.” She’d collected enough shards during her escape to assemble a hero core, and had decided to become a primalist instead.
“That’s enough,” Fosor said. He was the first man Sara had met who could manage to combine a lazy drawl with a firm command, and the effect was certainly unique enough that she doubted she’d ever forget it. “Dungeon intelligence is a hotly debated topic, and rather controversial. There is evidence for both theories, and they don’t matter. If the Dungeon is intelligent, it’s going to try to kill us. If it’s not intelligent, it’s still going to try to kill us. It doesn’t matter if it can think. It matters that it can kill. Just don’t tempt fate by insulting it, and we’ll be fine.”
“So you do believe they’re intelligent,” Moa said, giving Fosor a sharp look.
“I just said that I don’t care,” Fosor snapped languidly, a contradiction in terms that Sara couldn’t shake as being the best description. “I know that people who insult dungeons often have a worse time in dungeons, so if it’s intelligence or the will of the Creator or just a case of never hearing about people who insult dungeons and are fine, I don’t want you doing it.”
Moa shrugged and looked around. “Light’s still red,” she said. “What do we do while we wait?”
“Stretch.” Fosor’s answer was immediate. “And drink water. The last thing I want is to waste healing because one of you gets a cramp and survives stumbling into a trap or the inevitable mauling.”
“That’s the last thing you want to do?” Sara asked.
Fosor’s expression softened a hair. “No. The last thing I want to do is have to carry one of your bodies out. Rushing to this place was the right call for your progression, but the wrong call for your safety. I’m trying to mitigate that.”
“Aw,” Sara said, a smile playing on her lips. “You do care.”
Fosor rolled his eyes. “Stretch. All of you.”
“But do it quickly,” Lavoz said, pointing at the dungeon entrance. “Look.”
The light had turned back to blue. No one had come out, and that sobering reality put a damper on the mood. Korah just nodded once. She’d expected that.
“Lavoz, take point,” Fosor said, checking his level compass to ensure the little mana he’d used curing Sara’s sleep deprivation had refilled. “No one die. I’d like to feel safe getting to know you all.”
***
“Look at the plants!” Moa exclaimed as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve never seen their like in open air, let alone underground.”
“This room didn’t have anything in it last time that was dangerous,” Korah added.
“Assume it does,” Fosor said. “It’s probably hiding some kind of threat. Stay wary.”
They spent thirty minutes rummaging through the various alien ferns before Fosor was satisfied that this room was, in fact, safe. In that time they all collected, at the request of both Korah and Moa, various samples from the plants. Moa was certain an alchemist would be interested in examining them. Korah wanted some for herself, though he had trouble articulating why.
“I don’t like the lack of mobs,” Lavoz said.
“You’re going to complain because we’re not in danger yet?” Sara asked.
“No, he’s right.” Fosor looked at the doorway to the next room with suspicious eyes. “Dungeons can only create a set number of mobs, based on their tier. If there’s no mobs out here, that means there’s more in the later rooms.”
Korah nodded. “Other groups have gone in since mine, too. It’s probably ranked up. Haven’t talked to any of the other survivors.”
That definitely got Sara’s head out of an idle daydream of an easy dungeon run. There was an undertone to Fosor’s words that had her hair standing on end. “You’re thinking something,” she said.
“My father and his mother were both dungeon delvers,” Fosor said. “My grandmother would tell stories of the old dungeons. They’d have a single room full of mobs, and one that was loaded with traps. Or they’d have no mobs except for a single, overpowered boss. Or traps that would kill you if you stepped wrong. The Old School Delvers survived things that would turn your hair white.”
“And?” Sara asked, the rest of the group getting quiet to listen.
“I’m starting to wonder if this dungeon is an older type.” Fosor hadn’t taken his eyes off the next room since he’d started talking. “Something from a bygone age.”
Korah looked thoughtful as she nodded. “That seems...very possible.”
Lavoz stepped forward, raising his shield. “Well, why don’t we show whatever is in the next room how we do things these days?”
The bravado helped ease some of the tension, although it was hard not to remember that some groups would have beaten them here. There’d been no sign of them when they arrived, something the group had conspicuously not discussed. Lavoz’s boast about how modern delvers worked was less impressive when it occurred to Sara that so far, the only thing modern delvers likely seemed good at was ‘dying in large numbers.’
Raising her hands to be prepared for whatever came, she followed Lavoz into the second room. This one was much like the first, although the plants were a bit sparser and there was a clear path through the room. It was a winding path, but it was something they could follow. Lavoz kept his shield raised, looking as tense as Sara felt. Korah’s hands tightened around her axe handles. Fosor seemed the calmest of the group - until you noticed how white his knuckles were around the mace he was carrying. Moa was...nowhere to be seen, which was the best place for a rogue to be.
Then Korah whirled and hurled an axe into the brushes. Something let out a pained shriek. “They’re here!” The words came out in a harsh snap.
“Up ahead!” Sara said, pointing ahead on the path. “I found some more.” That snapped Lavoz’s head back in that direction. Two creatures were standing on the path, their tails raised straight back behind them, fanning out feathers to make the mobs look larger than they were. She knew these creatures, but only from books. Even with everything she’d already seen, this was something she’d never dared to expect.
“Raptors,” Sara said, scarcely able to believe what she was seeing.
The two raptors ahead of them charged towards Lavoz. He held out his shield and the blue mana bar on his hand flared to life as he activated his ability. The shield was surrounded by a ghostly version of itself, stretching out to cover a far greater area, and the two raptors hit the translucent barrier and began to scratch at it with their claws. “Your attacks go through it!” he shouted over his shoulder.
Korah roared and hurled one of her axes. Fosor stepped forward and held out one hand, a bolt of light leaping from his fingers. “A little help, mage!” he shouted.
“Wait for it…” Sara took a deep breath, then whirled to the side, hurling an orb of arcane energy to her left like a thrown rock. The raptor that had been creeping up on that side shrieked as it was struck in the chest and sent skidding back. The blow wasn’t fatal, and the raptor ducked back into the underbrush, but Sara could see her power rising from the wound like purple smoke. “Moa, other flank!”
There was a sound from that side, and the rogue materialized from behind a bush that shouldn’t have hidden her. Her daggers sunk into something smaller and lower to the ground, and then she was gone again.
“Square up!” Fosor barked. “Korah, left flank. Sara, right flank. Lavoz, hold center. Moa, pick off the sneaky bastards!”
Korah pivoted on her heel and tossed an axe towards the raptor Sara had struck earlier. Her thrown axe hit a wall and ricocheted. It screeched and stumbled. Sara took a step back, so she was next to the massive primalist and behind Lavoz’s shield for protection against frontal assaults. It definitely wasn’t the smooth formation of a practiced group, but Fosor’s instructions were simple enough for even this untested team to follow.
“My right or yours?” Korah asked.
“Doesn’t matter. You and Sara each get one - incoming, Sara!”
She’d let her distraction over directions divert her attention. The raptor was charging her with an open jaw. She threw out her hand, calling upon her mana. The cast was awkward and poorly aimed. It still caught the raptor in the side - it’s hard to miss at this range - but all she accomplished was throwing off its balance for a moment. It stumbled to the side, unable to leap, but not before its head snaked out and fangs scraped her leg.
“I’m hit!” Sara growled. It had been a glancing blow, but blood was still pouring from the thin skin of her shin. The raptor was already falling back, getting ready to loop back around for another attack. She started to cast again and felt a hand on her back. Fosor. Healing energy made her leg itch as skin stitched together, numbing the pain. Sara didn’t have time to thank the party leader. Instead, she prepared to hurl another arcane orb at the raptor. She just about got a clean shot when-
Whack!
The tail caught her in the kidney, spoiling her shot and causing the spell to fizzle out on her fingers. One of the scutos had slipped past Korah and Moa. The lizard's tail felt like a whip, and although it didn’t cut deep, it was more than enough to break her concentration. Sara started a new spell for that target when-
Whack!
This time she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a pained cry, although hers was drowned in a roar of pain from Korah. The raptor that escaped Sara had gotten past Korah’s guard, and was now latched onto her forearm, sickle claws digging into her hand. Lavoz was being pushed back by the last remaining raptor Sara could see and two of the scutos, battering his barrier. Fosor had to stop healing her to give attention to the greater wounds on the primalist.
Whack!
“Will you stop that?” Sara growled at the scuto. Unable to vent her fury with arcane power, she had words. Well, words and an idea. A terrible idea, really. But it was better than nothing. Keeping her focus on the dinosaur, she started to cast again. The tail whipped up, and Sara lashed out herself, cancelling the spell before the interrupt hit. Her fingers closed around the lizard’s tail. She nearly lost her grip as the attack raised a welt across her palm. She grunted and pivoted. The creature was just around twenty pounds. It was a struggle, but she could manage to swing it like a flail. “Duck!” she shouted.
Lavoz did, while Fosor just took a small step back. Lavoz’s barrier allowed their attacks to pass through it. As Sara had hoped, the magic of that spell decided that the dinosaur counted as Sara making an attack right now.
The raptor in front of Lavoz was cunning and creative. It was not, however, prepared for one of its allies to come hurtling at it. Raptor and scuto collided, and Lavoz dropped his barrier to slash with his sword. Two quick cuts later, both combatants were dead.
Moa had reappeared at some point in the chaos, her strikes ending the life of the raptor that had torn deep furrows in Korah’s arm. Korah repaid the rogue’s favor by tossing two axes in quick succession. They were offhanded throws, so the first missed the scuto sneaking up behind Moa. The second axe, however, struck true.
“Are we clear?” Fosor barked with a crispness she’d not have thought the healer was capable of prior to this.
“Clear!” Moa said, checking the area that Korah had been watching. The Urkin had turned ashen, and Fosor kept pouring healing energy into the wound.
“Clear!” Sara echoed, scanning her section of the room for any signs of movement.
“Clear!” Lavoz confirmed.
Some of the tension went out of the group now that battle was over. Moa stepped up to Sara. “Your leg, let me see it.” Sara raised her pants to give Moa a look. The rogue worked with quick fingers, pulling out a bandage. “Don’t move,” she said.
Sara nodded. The wound had been mostly healed by Fosor, but she wasn’t going to object to some additional treatment. “You hurt?” she asked Moa.
Moa shook her head. “Nothing that needs attention. Bruises. Those whip tails sting.”
“Tell me about it,” Sara muttered, her eyes going over to Korah. She was starting to regain color, and the cuts in her arms had been reduced to scrapes. “You all right?”
“Yes,” Korah said through gritted teeth that belied the word.
“It didn’t hit an artery,” Fosor said, returning to his normal casual tone. “Lavoz, you need healing?”
Lavoz shook his head. “I’m clear. But I’m damn low on mana.”
“Same here,” Sara added.
“I’m glad you all are so low, takes less mana to heal you,” Fosor said, running his hand through his hair. “All right. Lavoz, keep eyes on the next room, be ready for anything. Moa, find the lizards you killed away from the group and get the loot. Sara, help me with the loot around here.” Korah looked up at him, and Fosor forestalled his words with a glare. “You rest. You had the worst injuries.”
“But-”
Fosor’s glare was, in some ways, more terrifying than the raptors they had just fought. “What in all the hells gave the impression that was a request, Korah?”
“Um.” Korah looked at Fosor, then nodded. “Okay. You’re the boss.”
“Look at this!” Moa exclaimed. The rogue had already started to follow orders, moving the moment Fosor had said “loot.” From what Sara understood, being a rogue did not make one greedy or obsessed with lucre. However, the greedy or loot hungry were often drawn to the class. In that one area, at least, Moa lived up to the stereotype. “Five coppers from this one, and a shard.”
“Don’t absorb it,” Fosor called out. “We’re going to put the shards where they’re most needed.”
Moa called back confirmation, and they set to gathering. The loot was impressive. Four to five coppers per lizard, seven to eight per raptor, and one shard from each. By the end of it, the group’s mood was close to jubilant. That much copper was a month’s wages for most people. Even split five ways, they could all spend the next week comfortable, and that was just from this room.
Even Fosor seemed to brighten some, although it was hard to tell with him. He was considering the shards. Absorbing them was how they could progress their hero cores. “Moa and Korah, take two. Sara gets three. Rest go to Lavoz. That should be enough to get Sara to Tin Two, and Lavoz to Tin Four. Sara, get an area of effect spell, we’ll need it for the next room. And Lavoz?”
